Friday, October 24, 2008

Leaving Big Easy Wasn't Easy

May, 1963...4th grade would be my final year at Gayarre Elementary School, in New Orleans.

My Dad landed a job at an oil refinery in coastal Mississippi that would forever put an end to his having to go out into the gulf for two weeks at a time.

Mississippi? Where was Mississippi? I had never heard of such a place. The only other place I had any inkling of was of my Granny's in Alabama, and that always seemed like another planet to me. Nothing could have prepared me for the change in environment I was fixing to experience. Nothing. And sho' nuff' nothing could have prepared my Momma.

So off to Mississippi we went.

We moved into a very new subdivision. The houses were all spaced out, with grass and Pine trees every where. It was all so new. The roads had not been paved yet and there were only one or two families occupying the entire neighborhood. It felt lonely and desolate at the time. It was all so different. It was as if we had moved to the moon.

My new school was newly built. It was a one story building, all spread out, with grass and trees in the play ground area. There was no basement area to play in. I guess, looking back, all these things should have been positives, but at the time it didn't seem that way to my young mind and heart.

I missed my old friends. There were the Chinese girls (twins) whose parents run the laundry down the street from where we went to school. There was a little Spanish girl I played with that lived around the corner and then there was my very best friend, Elenora, who was a foster child. I missed the side walks where we outlined hop scotch to play, and I missed having a basement in school, because that is where we played Jacks during recess, it's cement surface was smooth, shiny, and cool to touch. And last, but not at all the least, I missed Miss Mary's snowball shop, with her glass case, filled with what not and books.

The great thing about children is their ability to adapt, and thankfully, I did. I made new friends, learned to play new and different games at recess and discovered Mrs. Newman's neighborhood store.

Unfortunately, adults sometimes do not have the same mechanism as children to adjust to new surroundings.

My Momma was one of them.

But that is a story for another day. Gayarre School:New Orleans, LA

...behold, I make all things new. Revelations 21:5
Blessings, peace, and all that is good,


Empress Bee (of the High Sea) said...

i love your stories!

smiles, bee

Me Maw said...

Thanks Bee, as I yours as well!

Jenn said...

Well Mom, I think it is really interesting what we remember as children. As much as I talk, I have probably told you my life story twice over... but, as I try to recall a memory that you wouldn't know about... I remember Saturday mornings in Gautier...early with Dad riding over the railroad tracks to go and get doughnuts... the cool air blowing in my dad beside me...and all in the world that occupied my mind at the time was... what kind of doughnut will I get this time?... man..probably has something to do with the reason that Saturday is still my favorite day of the week... I love you...